


Learn To Live (The Unimaginable)

by surabayuh



Series: legacy (a garden you never get to see) [2]
Category: Avengers: Endgame (2019), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Gen, Harley Keener and Peter Parker being Morgan's Co-Brothers, Iron Family, Mommy Pepper Potts, Morgan is mean to Steve in this one, Tony Stark is a Good Dad Even in Death, but that's just coming from her grief don't blame her, grandpa steve, uncle bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surabayuh/pseuds/surabayuh
Summary: The first time Morgan grieved, truly, madly, genuinely grieved for her father's death was when she was 9 years old.“There's only one Iron Man,” Morgan said, forcefully, her voice louder than she intended to. Sharper. Angrier.“Was.” Her friend quipped, correcting her without much of a thought.Morgan’s breath hitched, air disappearing from her lung. She froze, the rant teeming at the tip of her tongue halted. Her body went cold.Was.





	Learn To Live (The Unimaginable)

The first time Morgan grieved, truly, madly,  _genuinely_  grieved for her father's death was when she was 9 years old. 

* * *

 

**1\. Shock**  

Before that, she was only vaguely sad, and sometimes missed him intensely, but mostly, she was quite content. Yes, daddy was not with her anymore, but he left her the recordings. His hologram spoke to her at least once every two weeks. He still made crass jokes that made Mom swat his hologram, sometimes. Still gave Peter and Harley hell with his retelling for their various embarrassing shenanigans. Still called Uncle Rhodey _Sugar-Bear._   Still said “I love you three-thousand,” to Morgan every time before he ended the video.  

Before, Morgan couldn't quite grasp the concept of  _death._  

And then, Iron Heart happened. 

“Did you see the news last night? Did you?” Asked Kenna when they were eating lunch. “A new Iron Man  _appeared!"_ She was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.  

“It's Iron Heart,” Corrected Morgan, her tone just a tad annoyed as she chewed her food. 

“Yeah, and then when they  _blasted_ that dude with the mechanical  wings down under the bridge? Man, they were so  _awesome.”_ Amaka chimed in, equally as excited as Kenna.  

Morgan thought of RiRi’s past practices with the suit, flying three feet up the ground before crashing to her face. She snickered at the thought. “Yeah, so awesome,” She said, playing along, the annoyance dissipating. 

“I wonder what's the new Iron Man's name.” Asked Kim out loud. “Is it a he, or a  _she,_ or maybe even someone gender neutral—” 

“It's Iron  _Heart,"_ The annoyance returned, full force, and Morgan gritted her teeth as she corrected them.  

Kenna flippantly waved a hand to Morgan. “Who cares? They both wear the same color scheme, fight with similar armor, it's practically the same thing.”  

Morgan gripped her eating utensils tighter, the annoyance tethering itself into the beginning of anger. “No, it's  _not._ She's Iron  _Heart_ _,_ not Iron  _Man."_ She said, practically gritting her teeth.  

“I mean, as long as they're using the same style in fighting—” Kenna argued. 

“There's only  _one_ Iron Man,” Morgan said, forcefully, her voice louder than she intended to. Sharper. Angrier.  

“ _Was,”_ Kim, the usual grammar-snob, corrected her without thinking.  

Morgan’s breath hitched, air disappearing from her lung. She froze, the rant teeming at the tip of her tongue halted. Her body went cold.  _Was._  

“He's,” Morgan said, her voice shaky. “He’s  _still_ Iron Man.” She said,  trying to argue with her voice  thick and throaty and  _daddy, with his goatee and bright smile calling her “_ _Maguna_ _," Daddy,_ _fixing her tricycle_ _bike when she broke the chain_ _;_ _Daddy, telling her a bedtime story about_ _the mechanic and his CEO, her absolute favorite_ _;_ _Daddy_ _, jokingly hiding the_ _juice pops_ _stock and accidentally letting it melt under the couch; daddy_ _—_ “He's  _irreplaceable_ _,”_ Said Morgan, her chest tight and heavy, eyelids burning. 

_Was._  

Amaka was the first time to put two and two together. “Oh, oh Morgan,” She immediately scooted over to her side. “We’re sorry. We didn't mean to—”  

Morgan wiped the brimming tears with her sleeve and gulped. Soon enough, Kenna and Kim realized as well, and quickly apologized. Morgan mumbled an, “It's okay,” as a reply, but it suddenly  _wasn’t._  

_Was._  

_Was._  

_Was._  

The usage of past tense hit her like a sledgehammer; For the first time in four years, it truly,  _truly_ dawned on her that her Daddy was  _dead._ Iron Man was  _gone._  Tony Stark was  _gone._

And no amount of recordings he left could ever change that fact. 

* * *

  **2\. Denial/ignorance.**  

Pepper and Rhodey was in the middle of supervising RiRi flight-testing her Mark 21 for the umpteenth time when Happy came back from picking Morgan up from school, taking Morgan’s little palm on one hand. When Pepper caught sight of her daughter, eyes drooping and lips frowning, she immediately narrowed her eyes at Happy. 

_I don’t know_ , Happy mouthed as they approached the trio.  _She won’t talk to me._   

Rhodey and Pepper exchanged wary and concerned looks before walking to Morgan. “Hi, Sweetie,” Pepper said, crouching down her daughter with a soft smile. “How was school today?” She tucked a strand of hair behind Morgan’s ear.  

“Fine,” Morgan mumbled, quietly, as she looked down.  

“You don’t seem fine, Kiddo,” Rhodey responded, kneeling down next to Pepper. “Wanna talk about it?” He offered, landing a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. Morgan shook her head, looking sadder by the second.  

_Clank!_  

All heads snapped to the source of the voice, where RiRi managed to very astonishingly land herself on the ground face-front. “I’m okay, gravity just mixed up my face for my feet for a second there.” She grunted before anyone could approach her. Opening her mask, the cheeky teenager blew a random strand of hair from her face, before sitting up and offering a grin to Morgan. “Hi Little Miss Trouble, why the long face?” She greeted her kindly.  

Usually, Morgan—who'd grown rather attached to RiRi and even called her as ‘ _honorary big sister’—_ would immediately brighten up and laugh at the sight of the teen embarrassing herself. However, today, Morgan instead looked away, barely acknowledging RiRi’s greetings. Instead, she tugged her mother’s sleeves, asking quietly, “Can we go home now?” 

The lines on Pepper’s forehead went even deeper as she frowned. “Sure, Morgan,” She said, warily. She looked at Rhodey, who seemed equally confused, and then at RiRi, whose smile faltered and was replaced by a rather concerned look.  

RiRi stood up and approached Morgan, “Morgie, hey, baby girl,” She said, “Did I upset you? was it something I said?” Morgan mumbled a small ‘ _no’_ , But she averted her gaze from RiRi, and instead looked down. “What is it, then, Morgie?” RiRi tapped her reactor twice, recalling the nanoparticles back. 

But Morgan stayed quiet, her lips pressed shut.  

“Okay,” Said Rhodey, clapping his hands together. “I think that’s enough Flight-Test for today. After all, it’s School Night.” He said, giving Morgan a smile. “Why don’t we all head back early and relax.”  

A buzz of agreements were uttered by the people of the group, before Pepper took Morgan’s hand and led her to say goodbye to Rhodey and Happy. Morgan only mumbled a small  _bye_ to her Uncle and didn’t even say anything to RiRi, which concerned Pepper greatly.  

They walked out, hand-in-hand, with Happy by their side. Pepper caught the side of Rhodey mouthing  _update me_ and pointing at Morgan not-so-subtly before the elevator door closed. “Hey, Sweetheart, it’s Tuesday night,” Said Pepper, trying to initiate a conversation. “You know what that means; movie time!” She said. “I'm thinking Mulan, what do you think?” 

Mulan was Morgan's favorite Disney princess, and she would never miss a chance to re-watch the movie. So Pepper was quite surprised when Morgan only bit her lower lip, seemingly disinterested. “Okay,” She said, dejectedly. 

She sounded so defeated that Happy lowered himself in front of her. “How about a McDonald’s cheeseburger and a Stark-Raving-Hazelnut to cheer you up?” He offered. “We can pick it back on the way back, eat it as dinner, right mom?” He looked up to Pepper who, for once, didn’t object the junk-food offers for meal substitutes. 

But Morgan, once again, only shook her head, and instead only snuggled closer to Pepper’s side, holding her hand tightly. Not being able to hold herself back, Pepper hauled Morgan up to her embrace, “Morgan, baby,” She said, worriedly. “you know you can tell me anything,  _anything_ right?”  

“Yeah,” Said Morgan, burying herself to the nook of Pepper’s shoulder and neck. Pepper said, but she didn’t say anything more. In fact, Morgan went uncharacteristically quiet throughout the car ride, latching to Pepper’s and pressing her face to her chest.  

It was only after dinner, when Pepper tucked Morgan to bed, after a quiet exchange of “ _i love you 3000_ ” that she held her from going back to her room. “Mommy,” She said, “stay, please?”  

Pepper immediately nodded in affirmative. “Of course, Sweetie.” She said, gently nudging her to scoot over. Morgan snuggled to her, and Pepper could feel her daughter’s vice-grip embrace, as if she was so afraid of letting Pepper go.  

“You won’t leave me, right, Mommy?” Asked Morgan, voice small.  

Pepper’s heart felt like it was torn to pieces. “Baby, of course,” She said, caressing her head. “I’ll stay for as long as you want.”  

* * *

  **3\. Anger**  

“One of the biggest, most important events in the 21st Century that had ever happened was the Decimation,” explained Grandpa Steve before the auditorium. “It wiped 50% of the living population, all across the universe.” He offered his audience a somber smile. “We the Avengers used to call it the snap.”  

It was Thursday, and behind him, the banner read  _Four-Year-Commemoration of the Return._  

_(The day of daddy’s death.)_  

Most of Morgan’s friends and the students below her years were not bothered at the mention of the Decimation. They weren’t born yet at the time to truly  _understand_ the impact of the Snap, But Morgan’s hand grew clammy at the thought of the  _war,_ and how it haunted her daddy, got him screaming at  _nights_ — 

_(daddy, who was gone, gone, gone—)_  

She swallowed her bile as she looked around to the tribune, and she could see the older students squirm at the mention of the event. They  _knew,_ Morgan thought,  _just like I do._

_“_ The man behind the Decimation was called Thanos—” Grandpa Steve continued.  

“Ugly purple raisin!” Yelled one of the kids in the south tribune. A shocked, uneasy laughter broke through the place in response. Morgan responded by being dead quiet.  

Grandpa Steve chuckled at that, “Well,  _true,”_ He said, nodding at the south tribune, eliciting another surprised laughter. “But anyway, to do this, he used this thing called Infinity Stones—six omnipotent gems which could basically grant what you  _wished_ for,” He paused, looking down at the podium, “and then he destroyed the stones so no one could undo what he’d done.” 

The laughter died down. The auditorium went quiet.  

_“_ For five years, we thought we lost hope. We tried to move on.” Said Grandpa Steve, solemnly. “But then,  _then_ came hope.” He looked around the auditorium, captivating them with his storytelling. “Three of our best scientists on earth—Doctor Bruce Banner, Scott Lang, and, most importantly,  _Tony Stark—”_ Morgan caught him looking at her at the mention of her father. “They came up with a plan—to create a time machine, take the stones from the past, and then use it to bring back the Decimated.” He took a deep breath, “and it  _worked,”_ He continued, with serious voice. “By  _God,_ it  _worked.”_  

Morgan was reminded of Grandma Potts, who re-materialized right before her eyes and Grandpa Potts when he babysat her while mom was gone pursuing  _daddy._ She thought of Peter, who greeted her shyly at the funeral with swollen eyes and throaty voice. She thought of Harley, who sobbed before the coffin and whispered  _thank you, thank you for bringing her back, I’m so sorry_ while holding his sister’s hand.  

“But it wasn’t an easy victory,” Continued Grandpa Steve. “To obtain the stones, we lost one of our heroes. She sacrificed herself so that—so that we could succeed.” Behind him, a photo materialized, showing Auntie Natasha looking solemn and serious. “The Black Widow; Natasha—” He said, his voice cracked at the mention of her name. “Natasha Romanoff.”  

The children around her looked at Auntie Natasha’s picture with half-admiration, half-disbelief.  

“And to wield the stones, we lost another.”  

Another photo materialized, next to Auntie Nat. It was  _daddy—_ with his sunglasses and goatee, looking crisp and professional. Daddy, looking very much  _alive._  

_(_ _Maguna_ _,_ she could hear him say, softly, smiling so wide the corner of his eyes crinkled.) 

_“_ The weight and power of the stones were far too lethal for a regular man, It burned even Hulk’s hand.” Spoke Grandpa Steve, his voice low. “But Iron Man— _Tony Stark—_ wielded it, and snapped Thanos and his army from existence.” He took a deep breath, “and for that, he sacrificed his life.” 

_(Once upon a time,_ _Maguna_ _goes to bed. The end.)_  

“Today is the day we commemorate their sacrifices.” 

(When Morgan woke up, her daddy wasn’t there.) 

“You said lethal to only regular man.” The words slipped before she could think, echoing through the walls. All eyes turned to her direction, but she was too distracted to see them back. “It destroyed Hulk's hand but it didn't  _kill_ him.” 

“Young Lady—” Said one of the teachers standing behind grandpa Steve, moving forward with a frown on his face.  

“Thor isn’t regular.” Continued Morgan, blood simmering, word by word, “Captain Marvel isn’t regular.  _You—”_ She said, lips quivering. “You  _aren_ _’t_ regular.” She paused, “ _right?”_  

“Now I think that’s enough—” Piped another teacher, clearly angered and embarrassed. But Morgan was looking at Grandpa Rogers with scathing eyes, daring him to answer.  

Grandpa Steve looked at her, his eyes laced with guilt. “right,” He affirmed, warily.  

_(I love you tons._  

_I love you 3000._  

Morgan never saw her daddy again after that night.) 

“Then why,” Morgan’s cheeks were now red, hands clenched together as her entire body trembled with unbridled anger.  “did _none_ of you try and wield the gauntlet?”  

There was no sound in the auditorium except for intakes and outtakes of breath, and Morgan felt like she wanted to inflict unimaginable _pain_ to Grandpa Steve, to Aunt Carol, to Uncle Thor. 

“Why did you let a _regular_ man  _die_ doing it instead?”  

Her words came out sharp and jagged, full of unkind accusation that made Grandpa Steve wince. _Good,_ Morgan thought, darkly, at his reaction. He was supposed to feel horrible.  

She wanted them to feel the same pain that she felt.  

* * *

  **4\. Bargaining**  

Bruce watched the entire interaction through the CCTV with mild amusement. 

**“Authorization code, denied.”** Replied FRIDAY, calmly.  **“Baby-Boss-Proof Protocol, activated.”**  

“No!” Morgan yelled at FRIDAY, “FRIDAY, open up!” she banged the lab door rather violently to no avail as the machinery behind it worked with a  _click-click-whirl_ to prevent her from getting in. Beside her, DUM-E and U whirred, their machinery hummed softly in contrast to Morgan’s loud protests.  

She’d been dropped by the Compound for a night because no one in her immediate family was home or available—Peter had an interview, Harley was currently on a deadline, Pepper had an important meeting informed to her at the very last second, Happy were tending an oversight in SI, Nebula was in space, and Rhodey were supervising a military project until late night. She was offered to either go to Scott’s house with Cassie or go to the New York Sanctum Sanctorum under Strange’s supervision. 

Bruce was quite surprised when Morgan instead requested to go to the Compound with certainty. 

He watched as she whipped her head to her robot siblings. “Help me unlock the doors.” She said to them, leaving no room for argument. DUM-E beep-bopped in return, seemingly in panic, while U slowly, slowly backed away from Morgan. “Oh, come  _on!”_ She whined at them, but her plea fell on deaf ears as the duo disappeared into the hallway.  

Morgan turned back to the locked door before her. “If you don’t open up, I’m gonna have to break it in.” She said, threateningly.  

“ **And how will you propose to do that?”** Asked FRIDAY, calmly.  

Morgan stared at the door intently. “I’ll body slam it.” She answered, curtly, meaning every word.  

“ **The door is far too strong for your body to be able to meaningfully impact it.”** Replied FRIDAY matter-of-factly. “ **I’m sorry** **Miss** **Morgan, but you can’t enter the safe without Doctor Banner’s or Doctor Lang’s affirmation.”**  

Morgan flipped a finger to no direction in particular, and FRIDAY quipped, “ **That’s one dollar to the swear jar.”**  

“I don’t even say  _anything!”_  

_“_ **Swearing motion counts.”**  

Morgan stormed away sulkily, and that was how Bruce found her; frowning as she leaned over the Compound’s sofa, hands crossed over her chest.  _She looked just like her father,_ Bruce thought as he approached her. “Hello Morgan,” He greeted her, warmly. “Are you feeling alright?” He said, sitting next to her and practically taking about three-quarter of the total space.  

Morgan was still frowning, though she inched closer to his side. “Fine,” She answered curtly 

 Bruce nodded, his large hand softly ruffling her hair, “Your grandpa Steve came the other day, sort of freaking out. He thought he upsets you.” He said, softly.  

The little girl stilled and pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. “I said some mean things to him.” Morgan mumbled, the slightest regret hidden in her voice. “Things that I shouldn't have.”  

Bruce looked at her, small and seemingly  _done_ with life. “What about we call grandpa Steve right now? FRIDAY—" 

Immediately, Morgan shook her head. “Don't wanna talk to FRIDAY. Don't wanna listen to FRIDAY. Don't wanna help from FRIDAY.” She said, looking away.  

The scientist narrowed his eyebrows. “Is it because of the ‘ _body-slamming_ ’ the lab thing?” He asked, curiously. 

Gaping, Morgan looked up in an expression of betrayal that might be just a little too serious for it to be funny. “FRIDAY is a  _snitch_ and she knows it.” Morgan glared at the ceiling to make a point.  

“She’s just trying to protect you,” Bruce calmly assured her. “Lots of dangerous weapons and techs stored in there, Kiddo. You could get hurt accidentally.” He said, softly. “No one wants you to get hurt accidentally.”  

“I won’t mess around,” Morgan said, stubbornly. “I just need one thing, then I’m _done.”_  

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “What one thing?” He asked, genuinely curious.  

Morgan looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “If I tell you, you wouldn't like it.” she said, conspicuously.  

The scientist looked at the child before him, her expression serious and solemn as she did so as if she had something cooked up under her sleeves. “Well, that's arguable because you haven't even told me, yet.” He said, softly. “Let me be the judge of that.” 

Silence ensued as Morgan fiddled with her fingers, hands moving idly. Bruce waited her out. “it's the time machine.” She said, quietly. “I want to—want to borrow it.”  

Bruce's smile faltered. “Morgan,” said Bruce, worriedly. “The time machine's non-usable, you  _know_ that.”  

Morgan immediately reasoned to him, “I won't break it, I swear. You can teach me how to operate it—aunt Nebula said it was easy—and I'll learn as  _fast_ as I can, I swear—” she ranted, frantically, desperately trying to convince him. 

“No, Morgan—” Bruce immediately halted her torrents of words, “What I mean is that we  _can't_  use the time machine,  _ever.”_ He said, solemnly. “It's not supposed to be used, honey.”  

Morgan frowned. “Why  _can't_ we?” She  asked Bruce, half-whining. “You  _used_ it.” She pointed out, rather accusingly.  

“It was different, Morgan, it was  _desperate_   _times,”_ Bruce tried to explain to her, “We can't use i t unless it is  _absolutely_ necessary because it could mess up the time-flow, and disrupt the whole reality,” He elaborated, earning a deeper frown and a look of confusion from Morgan.  “Believe me, honey, it's for the best if it's just stored there, unused,” and this part he told himself  _too,_ at night, when all he wanted was to jump back and insert the date,  _Vormir_ _, 2014,_ and take Natasha before she  _jumped—_  

“Just once, uncle Bruce,” Begged Morgan, her voice desperate. “I won't even try to use it again, just  _once—”_  

“Morgan _._ ”Bruce insisted. “We are  _not_ meddling with time,” he told her with a tone of finality. His rejection dimmed the little girl's face, and he could see the moment hope left her big, doe eyes. Where did she get the idea, he didn't know, and why did she want to—?  

And suddenly,  _suddenly,_ Bruce  _understood_. 

“I just—” Morgan said, dejectedly, looking down to her lap. 

_You would_ ** _love_** _her,_ _Brucie_ _Bear,_ He could hear Tony say to him, long ago,  _She's amazing_ _—and a daddy's little girl, at that,_ he told him with a grin.  

 “I just want to see Daddy again, uncle Bruce,” She almost whispered. “Is that too hard to ask for?”  

* * *

 

**5\. Depression**  

 Morgan saw him everywhere; in the statue erected in the New York Central Park. In the Heroes Wing in the Smithsonian. In the Science Wall of Fame at Peter’s School. In the photo sequences playing at the Stark Expo’s permanent display. In the album her mom would open, every once in a while, in the archives FRIDAY stored. 

Morgan heard him anywhere; in an annual interview, talking about him. In magazine praising him. In the whispers of awe mouthed by strangers passing by, in the fond retelling by her mother’s acquaintances. In Aunt Nebula’s phone-calls, in Peter and Harley’s stories, in Uncle Rhodey’s recounts, in Uncle Happy’s quips, in mom’s soft descriptions.  

He was many things; Billionaire to some, Philanthropist to others, Genius to the public, Hero to  _all._  

(The word  _Maguna_ _,_ told in soft tones and nearly forgotten voice, spun in her head. No one called her that anymore, no one dared to because it was  _his_ nickname for her.)  

Everyone had a chance to know him; had a chance to truly remembered him; all Morgan had were secondhand tales of encounter and a torrent of virtual recordings.  

* * *

 

**6\. Acceptance**  

“Morgan,” Said mommy, waking her up on Saturday morning with a hot-chocolate-filled mug. “Wake up, baby. it's daddy time.” She spoke, softly, giving Morgan a soft caress on her head. Morgan snuggled closer under her covers, screwing her eyes tighter. “Come on, baby.” Said mom, after a while, “there's uncle Rhodey downstairs, waiting for you.”  

Shaking her head, Morgan turned her back on her mother. “Don't wanna,” she croaked, voice dry and laced with sleep but still filled with  _emotions._  “Can't we just skip today, mom?” 

Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Baby, it's daddy's messages.” She said, stating the obvious. And in other Saturdays, the obvious would be enough to coax Morgan from her bed, jumping up and down in anticipation as she wondered what daddy had to say for her today. 

But not now; not with the knowledge and the weight of his passing settling deeply in her chest. 

“Please, Honey?” Her mom had to practically beg her for Morgan to finally relent and climb down the bed, and by the time she reached the living room the chocolate was already lukewarm-to-cold. Uncle Rhodey was indeed there—along with her two big brothers, too apparently. 

“Squirt!” Harley shot up from his seat upon landing his eyes on her, immediately approaching her to ruffle Morgan's bedhead. “Your hair looks like a bird nest.” He commented, combing through the locks with his hand. Morgan comically glared at him.  

“Still the cutest little sister in the world, tho.” Peter chimed in, approaching her as well. “Hey there Punk.” He greeted her, grinning while pinching her cheeks. Morgan tried to suppress a smile with a frown, but ended up failing, much to everyone's amusement. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Asked Morgan to the duo. Peter and Harley shrugged simultaneously. 

“Well, the campus is getting a little too quiet—” 

“so we figured we'd drive cross-country—” 

“to be with our kid sister!”  

“You keep talking like that and I'm gonna be convinced that you share the same brain cell.” Said Uncle Rhodey from the living room sofa. He turned, landed his eyes straight to Morgan with a warm gaze. “C'mere Kiddo.” Called he, tapping the empty spot next to him. “show's about to start, didn't you know?” He said, as Morgan took her place, dead center in front of the fireplace. “Fire it up, FRIDAY. Let’s see what you got for us today.” 

FRIDAY whirred, the machinery humming as she scanned her files. A split second later, the projection of her father's face came up, smiling kindly as usual. Instead of standing, though, he was sitting down the table, legs outstretched, with aunt Natasha sitting back-to-back, turning her head at him with confusion.  

Morgan's breath hitched. 

“ _If you want a selfie, Tony, you could've asked me to turn around.”_ Said Aunt Natasha, smirking. Dad rolled his eyes, elbowing aunt Natasha with his free hand. “ _ow, Stark! What the—”_  

“ _I_ _'m_ _gonna_ _stop you right there, this is a kid friendly video and I will not have Pepper behead me for_ _letting you accidentally teach my four-year-old a swearword.”_ Said dad, glancing at her.  

Aunt Natasha rubbed her back, and Morgan was floored by how casual it was; the banter, the light mood—it was as if both the people in the projection were still alive and breathing.  

(And yet—they were not.) 

“ _I was about to say hell—ow!”_ another jab, and now Aunt Natasha fully turned,  sneaking beside him with a playful frown. “ _You're violent, Stark.”_ She said, jokingly, eyes focused at him before turning at where the camera stands. “ _So this is for Morgan?”_  

Dad shrugged. “ _Yeah.”_ He said, rather nonchalantly, though Morgan could see the pained look in her dad's eyes—his eyes were always full of emotions, Morgan noted. “ _You know, just in case.”_  

(his eyes  _were,_ Morgan noted.) 

Aunt Natasha looked at him with the softest smile, before turning back into the camera. “ _Hey_ _Maguna,"_ She said, rather chirpily. Dad whipped his head at her sending a shocked and comically betrayed look. 

“ _That was my line, Romanoff!”_  

_“Too bad.”_ Aunt  Natasha shrugged, “ _I stole it.”_ She looked at the camera with kind eyes and a half smile. “ _Your old man wants to give you some of his wisdom, which in my opinion isn't that much.”_ She said, cheekily. 

Dad pouted “ _Way to ruin my reputation for my own kid, Nat.”_  

“ _Kidding!”_  Aunt Natasha laughed, giving Dad a swat on his side, then a gentle squeeze. “ _I_ _'ll leave you alone, then. And_ _Maguna_ _,”_ She turned back to the camera, pointing a finger,  _“listen to your dad, okay?”_  

There was a grin on Dad's face as Aunt Natasha walked out from the frame, and then he turned back to the camera, his expression softer. “ _T_ _hat's your Aunt Nat,_ _Maguna."_ He said, fondly, “ _She looks goofy, but trust me when I say that she can kill a guy with a paperclip!”_  

“Tony,” Morgan turned to her mother, whispering her dad's name unconsciously while shaking her head in affectionate exasperation.  

“ _Anyway, it's day 27, we're still figuring out where the stones were.”_ Said dad to the camera, before backtracking, “ _well, we_ ** _were._** _Brucie_ _Bear is dead asleep and we are all way too tired to continue.”_ He shrugged, wiping his eyes.  

He looked so tired—Morgan wanted to hug him. 

( _But you can't_ , She told herself, bitterly, _You can't because he_ _’s not here anymore. It's just a recording. Just the past._ ) 

“ _God, sometimes all I want_ _is to ju_ _st give up and_ _go back.”_ Said Dad, looking at his thighs. “ _But then I remember about you, about your mom, about your_ ** _brothers_** _—”_ **** He chuckled, hollowly. “ _Owed to your mom to get her mom back. Owed Harley to get his sister back. Owed to—”_ His breath hitched, Morgan could hear,  _“Owed to_ _Peter.”_ He said, his voice a tad raspier, thicker. 

Morgan caught the sight of Peter’s eyes shining, and Harley clearing his throat with a wet voice.  

“ _The things we do for the people we love,_ _”_ Dad  blinked, straightening herself. Offering her a smile again.  “ _Sometimes it's crazy, sometimes it's dangerous, but it's worth it if it puts a smile on their faces,"_ He said, “ _even when you're no longer around to see it._ ” 

( _I'm frowning,_ thought Morgan, tearfully,  _you're not around to fix it for me anymore._ ) 

“ _God I'm becoming a sap, am I?”_ Tony straightened himself and exhaled a big breath. “ _Whew, and to think that I planned this video to be about—”_  

Something buzzed, suddenly, and instinctively every member of the family looked around, thinking it was their respective phones. but Morgan’s eyes were glued to the screen, and she saw that it was her  _father’s_ phone that buzzed. His eyes widened slightly and he picked the phone from his pocket, and when he saw the caller ID, his smile  _brightened._  

_“Well hello there Mrs. Stark.”_ Said her dad, pressing the speaker button.  

“ _Hi Mr. Stark,”_ Teased her  _mom’s_ voiceon the screen. Her present-day-mom gasped softly, as if recalling the encounter. “ _How’s the whole time-heist thing going on?”_  

_“Currently swerved with hundreds of Back to the Future reference, thanks for asking.”_ Her dad replied, a soft look on his face. “ _How’s home?”_  

_“Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about, actually,”_ Said mom-on-the-phone, “ _You see, Morgan just claimed that she’d been promised to always have juice pops before bed,”_ She could  _hear_ mom raising her eyebrows. “ _Any idea who promised her that?”_  

Dad looked at the camera and made an  _ssh_ motion, winking at it before focusing back to her mother.  “ _Who, me?”_ He said, with the voice that conveyed so much affection Morgan could  _feel it. “Why I have no idea what you’re talking about.”_  

Morgan tearfully choked back laughter. She remembered that; The night before he departed, the night she last  _saw_ him, physically, he’d bribed her with, quote-on-quote, “ _As many juice pops as you want,_ _Maguna."_  

_“Tony, you’re spoiling her rotten.”_ Said her mother’s voice, with that fond-exasperation she always used whenever she was talking about him. “ _She can’t have juice pops before bed, she’ll get sugar rush and won’t actually_ ** _go_** _to bed.”_  

Dad chuckled,  _“Well, what can I say? A princess is her king’s weakness.”_ He said, then paused, then spoke again. “ _Speaking of which, where’s the—”_  

“ _Daddy!”_ It was  _her voice,_ Morgan realized, so  _joyful_ and  _innocent._ So happy—so  _completed._  

_“Hey_ _Maguna_ _!”_ Said dad, equally as joyful. “ _You being good to mommy?_ _Listen to her; no juice pops before bed_ _, or the cavity monsters will steal your teeth.”_  

_“But you promised!”_  

_“That promise was made under a blackmail_ _of your very beautiful, doe eyes, so it doesn't count. Now_ _spare your mommy s_ _ome mercy._ _She got gray hairs coming from you.”_  

Morgan’s throat was closing up with emotions, witnessing the encounter even  _she_ forgot.  

“ _Mommy’s hair not gray, daddy, you’re silly,”_ Said Morgan-on-the-phone.  

“ _I am silly, huh,”_ Said daddy, still smiling.  

“ _That’s okay. I like you silly.”_ Phone-Morgan affirmed. It was such simple words, but she saw her daddy pressed his knuckle to his mouth, suppressing a smile as a reaction.  

“ _Aw, Little Miss,”_ Said  daddy, clutching _, really clutching_ his chest at the words.  “ _I like you too. I like you a lot.”_  

“ _A lot's not measurable, daddy.”_  

_“Well that's because my love to you can't be measured. It's just too_ ** _much!_** _”_ Tony said, looking at the camera, smiling widely,  _“_ _and it's_ ** _never_** _gonna_ _go away, ever._ _Even if it's a thousand years away from now._ _”_  

His eyes went through the lenses, went straight to her. He  _meant_ every word.  

The hologram of her father bantered on with his phone-call from the past, but Morgan’s attention was too caught up in his proclamation to her. 

_My love for you is never going to go away._  

“ _Well, that's done.”_ Said daddy after the call was over.  “ _And this log is a_ ** _mess._** _FRIDAY, start over so I can properly lecture my future kid about_ _the dangers and threats of stinky male suitors.”_  

_“Sure Boss. Do you want me to delete this log?”_ That was FRIDAY, chirping from beyond.  

Her father tapped his chin, thinking. “ _Nah.”_ He said,  “ _Maybe future Morgan could find this and finally understand the importance of not_ _consuming confectioneries. Who knows.”_ He shrugged, leaning closer.  “ _anyway_ _Maguna_ _,_ _I’m about to re-do the whole thing, but remember to always listen to your mom, since she_ ** _is_** _the_ ** _boss_** _,_ _in more ways than one_ _—”_ He raised his eyebrows suggestively and winked. Morgan didn't know what he meant. 

"Tony!” She could hear mommy hissing through her tears, though there were more affection than annoyance there. 

“ _But anyway. Kid_ _—Kids,”_ He amended himself.  “ _Just know that I love you 3000.”_ He said, cheekily using his catchphrase as usual. But something about it made Morgan's heart  _fluttered._  

Because she knew now just how much honesty he conveyed in each words. 

Because she knew, that while the road to understanding and overcoming grief would not be easy, Morgan Stark could always count on one thing; that dead or alive, flesh or virtual, her father  _loves_ her. 

Present tense—always  _present._   

**Author's Note:**

> My aunt, which is basically my second mom, died when I was about 4 years old. I never could truly grasp her death as anything other than an abstract concept up until I was about 8 and visiting her grave with my mom; before I would only imagine her as going away and would return sometime later. that grounded realization of her death really changed me, and I thought that Morgan, who experienced her father's death at such a young age, might only realize the implication of his death later in life. anyway, sob with me about Endgame in fragilefangirl.tumblr.com fellas


End file.
